


Pseudologia Fantastica

by spookalicious



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 1960s, Electroconvulsive Therapy, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Hospital, Mental Illnesses, Suicide Attempt Mention, electroshock therapy, past self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookalicious/pseuds/spookalicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero is a pathological liar. His name's not even legally Frank. He's been a residential patient of the Newark Psychiatric Institution for a few months now, and he hates it. His only saving grace is that Gerard, another patient, has decided to take him under his wing and help out any way he can - all while dealing with his own internal issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pseudologia Fantastica

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as my final short story for my creative writing class in college. (It wasn't Frerard, but I made a few modifications :P )

The room was cold, I could feel the A/C even through my jacket. I looked up from the piece of paper on the coffee table before me to the tan wall behind the old television. A clock hung on the wall above it. The time was very much wrong. It was not 6:13. I finished marking at the coffee table with the small paper clip I had found, and stood, stretching slowly. I stepped back and admired my handiwork.

Frank. I smiled slightly to myself. I was proud of this one. No one could take this from me. Gerard would be proud.

My good mood lasted until I turned around – a nurse stood at the doorway of the common room. He was dressed as was required – white on white on white. The only thing that dampened my mood, as having a nurse in the doorway was normal, was the tray of small Dixie cups in his hands. My mouth almost watered. Those cups were full of my only desire -medications: full of antidepressants, antianxieties, antipsychotics, painkillers, antihistamines, antibiotics – they were all mine. My heart dropped when I heard the nurse start to call names because I knew none of them _were_ mine. These creeps gave all my drugs away. My medicine. I’d have nothing left.

I took a deep breath. Only a little longer, Frank. I turned my eyes to the small TV in the corner, the black and white screen bleeding and crackling. The others had formed an ‘orderly line’, as was usual, in front of the nurse at the doorway. He was now accompanied by a smaller man – a trainee, more than likely. He held a separate tray full of more cups. Water.

At the thought, my throat grew dry. I was thirsty. They had been keeping me empty, much like a useless box. I was useless. I was empty and wasting my breath. Well, it was more like they were wasting theirs. I wasn’t fixable. That is, I wasn’t broken. I’m not broken. How do you fix an empty box?

When I heard a familiar name being called, my head popped up. My consciousness had finally returned from the trance that is my thoughts. I looked around, and smiled to myself as I spotted him – Gerard.

Gerard was my only friend in this place. He was older than me by a few years, but he knew what it was like to be held in captivity over something “completely ridiculous”, or so he said. He smiled and waved at me as he approached the nurse and downed his pills.

When he headed my direction, I watched his make his way through the dayroom. Watching him walk was always astonishing. Gerard was 5’9” and lately, he had been looking very happy. That was a nice change. See, Gerard was born in the wrong body, as a man. He was held here as a residential patient over “homosexuality”, which, of course, they blamed for his suicide attempt. All the gays did it, apparently. The truth was the doctors were just idiots.

He greeted me and sat on the couch that was now behind me. He patted the cushion next to him, inviting me to sit. Unfortunately, I heard my name being called.

“Anthony?”

I groaned and waved to Gerard, who gave me a sympathetic look. I dragged myself across the room to the technician that had appeared beside the medicine nurses.

_My name is Frank._

The tech led me down the hall. I knew where we were going, but I also knew that trying to get out of it was impossible. The tech kept glancing at me to make sure I didn’t try anything. Fucking annoying.

When we arrived at our destination, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The doctor in charge of my file was right behind this door. The tech nudged me a little, trying to get me to head inside, but I didn’t budge. There was no way I was voluntarily going into this room.

It wasn’t until Dr. Hodges opened the door and greeted me, pulling me into the office and sending the technician away before I came to my senses. Dissociation was a bitch. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to go through this again.

This was the fifth time.

“Anthony,” Dr. Hodges started, “we need to talk about your behavior.”

I did my best to keep my head down, trying to ignore him.

He seemed a bit impatient. This was usual. I continued to ignore him, turning to look at the new artwork he had framed on his wall. This one looked like Gerard’s. At least he had taste.

“Are you listening to me? It’s time for another treatment, Anthony.” Dr. Hodges took a deep breathe, taking his glasses off and looking at me very seriously.

I looked up at him. Finally, not bothering to hold my breath at this point. This was the man who tortured me once a week. Why should I breathe the same air as him? I wasn’t _that_ vile…

He seemed to take me looking at him as permission to carry on, as he stood and went to the door connecting his office to a small lab. He motioned for me to follow. I did. Fighting was not an option at this point.

“Come lay down, please, Anthony.”

“ _Frank.”_

Dr. Hodges raised his eyebrows at me, but didn’t question it. The tech nearby smiled. He looked new. I almost snickered.

I did as I was told, though. Laying on the table that is.

My arms and legs were restrained. A cold gel was smeared onto my temples. I shivered.

After that, I don’t really remember what happened. It all kinda went black.

That is, until I woke up. Dr. Hodges was smiling at me, and speaking, but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. All I heard was distortion, as if a television had lost its signal. A weird ringing. My head was spinning. I felt dizzy, and… Broken. I felt broken.

_I wasn’t broken._

Dr. Hodges nodded and went to write on his clipboard, talking to the technician.

_I wish I could understand what they were saying._

The tech walked over to the table. I saw the expression on his face: fear, horror, surprise. He was white as a sheet. I figured he would be. All the newbies are when they see electricity running through a human’s body.

The tech helped me off the table after undoing my restraints with shaky hands. He kept his hand on my back as he helped me sit up. My feet dangled off the edge and it made me even dizzier than before. I needed gravity to kick in. I think the tech noticed this, as he decided to help me slip off the table and stand. I wobbled, but help my ground. This wasn’t a new feeling.

The tech helped me make my way down the hallway, to my room. I had a hard time keeping balance. I fell a few times. That was normal. Electricity messes with your nerves and your brain, and walking afterwards is probably one of the hardest things to do. Like learning how to all over again.

Gerard was waiting patiently outside of my room, worry plastered all over his face. He came and helped the tech carry me the rest of the way to my bed. I think I may have said something, but I’m not exactly sure what it was. It made Gerard smile though. I think I called him pretty.

As I started to fall asleep, Gerard was sent away to his own room, and I was left on my own. I doubted I would fully drift away. I lingered in the layer of consciousness between being asleep and being awake for hours. Laying here was strange. My head was spinning, my mind was blurry, and my eyes were glazing. My prescription sucked. _Shocks sucked._


End file.
